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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27269755">Revealed</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunflowerSupreme/pseuds/SunflowerSupreme'>SunflowerSupreme</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Witcher and the Whore [10]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abuse, Hate Sex, Kinktober, Kinktober 2020, M/M, Public Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sex Work, Torture, Whumptober, Whumptober 2020</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 02:42:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,689</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27269755</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunflowerSupreme/pseuds/SunflowerSupreme</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Geralt was standing in the doorway - and he wasn’t cut or bleeding - but something was clearly wrong. He was swaying slightly on his feet, tilting back and forth, and he barely looked up as Dandelion ran to him.</p><p> </p><p>  <i>Whumptober Day 17: I Did Not See That Coming</i><br/><i>Kinktober 2020: Non-Con, Public Sex, Hate Sex</i></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Witcher and the Whore [10]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1928341</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>94</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>178</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Kinktober 2020, Whumptober 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Just a trigger warning that this will get very dark. Read the tags before continuing because there’s no role-play involved.</p><p>Disclaimer: None of the rape/non-con/torture happens between Dandelion &amp; Geralt.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">Dandelion shifted, studying his reflection in the mirror. He was, in his own option, very fine looking.</p><p class="p1">With a smile the bard flicked a perfectly coiled curl out of his face, leaning forward to inspect his skin, wondering if he ought to put on a bit of makeup. <em>It never hurts…. </em></p><p class="p1">Before he could decide what to do, he heard a scream from downstairs.</p><p class="p1">Without thinking, he raced out the door of his room, taking the steps two at a time, thundering into the foyer.</p><p class="p1">Geralt was standing in the doorway - and he wasn’t cut or bleeding - but something was clearly wrong. He was swaying slightly on his feet, tilting back and forth, and he barely looked up as Dandelion ran to him.</p><p class="p1">Margot and several of the other workers stared at him.</p><p class="p1">“What are you all standing about for?” demanded Dandelion. “He’s clearly-”</p><p class="p1">“He’s fine,” said Margot. “Ain’t bleeding or nothin’ so’s it ain’t our problem.”</p><p class="p1">“Dandelion,” mumbled the Witcher, looking up at him with a confused face. “Dandelion.”</p><p class="p1">“I’m here, Geralt,” he said, taking the Witcher’s hand and squeezing it gently. Geralt barely squeezed back.</p><p class="p1">“He ain’t paid for your time,” said Margot stiffly. “I’ll send a carriage for ‘im, but you’ve got a customer waiting for you, boy.”</p><p class="p1">Dandelion looked back at Geralt, staring up at him blankly. Something wasn’t right. He was completely certain of that, if Margot sent him home and he was left unattended he could injure himself. If Dandelion was certain his servants were home he wouldn’t have worried, but Geralt tended to give them the day off when he was on contracts.</p><p class="p1">“No,” said the bard stubbornly.</p><p class="p1">Margot’s eyes widened. “Why you-”</p><p class="p1">“I’m taking him to get help,” he said stubbornly.</p><p class="p1">“Don’t you dare-” Margot grabbed his arm and Dandelion shoved her away, grabbing Geralt and pulling him from his chair.</p><p class="p1">“If you leave-” Margot began.</p><p class="p1">“You’ll fire me?” Dandelion guessed. His stomach churned uncomfortably at the idea, but he swallowed it down. <em>I’ll find another job</em>, he told himself. Whorehouses were a dime a dozen.</p><p class="p1">“You’ll spend an evening in the basement.”</p><p class="p1">Dandelion swallowed. “Alright Miss Margot,” he said quietly, leading Geralt toward the door. “If that’s what you please.”</p><p class="p1">He drug Geralt outside, stumbling down the front steps. “We’re going to a friend of mine,” he said. “Her name is Shani, she’s Oxenfurt trained.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">It was only an overdose of his Witcher potions.</p>
<p class="p1">Shani had promised that he would be fine once he’d slept it off, but Dandelion hadn’t been able to bring himself to leave Geralt’s side, sitting nervously on the edge of the bed, playing with the beads that hung from his lace shawl. </p>
<p class="p1">It was well past midnight before the Witcher began to wake, his golden eyes blinking open as he struggled to focus on the room.</p>
<p class="p1">“Geralt!” Dandelion cried with delight, leaning over and wrapping his arms around him. The Witcher tensed under his touch, and Dandelion quickly reminded himself that Geralt was odd about contact when his potions wore off. He left go, opting instead to rest his hands on either side of the Witcher’s head.</p>
<p class="p1">“Dandelion,” he said quietly.</p>
<p class="p1">“Thank the gods, you’re alive.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Afraid you’d lose your favorite paycheck?”</p>
<p class="p1">Dandelion laughed, then suddenly stopped himself. Geralt wasn’t smiling, there was no hint on his face that he was joking. “Oh Geralt, you know you’re so much more than that-”</p>
<p class="p1">“Hmm,” grunted the Witcher. “I suppose you do get paid twice with me. Once from me and once from Dijkstra, is that it?”</p>
<p class="p1">Dandelion’s blood ran cold. “Geralt-”</p>
<p class="p1">“Very few people know that I’m still in contact with Yennefer,” he said quietly. “But you know, and now Dijkstra does as well.” He tried to sit up, then groaned and fell back. Dandelion caught him, but Geralt shoved him away with a scowl. “I went into a trap, Dandelion. There was no contract, only Dijkstra, wanting me to tell him where Yennefer is. When I refused, I had to find my way back through a nest of drowners.”</p>
<p class="p1">He didn’t know what to say, panic welling in his throat as Geralt stared at him impassively. “It’s not like-”</p>
<p class="p1">“Leave,” said Geralt softly.</p>
<p class="p1">“Geralt, please, let me explain-”</p>
<p class="p1">“Leave, now, Dandelion, or I’ll scream rape. You’re a whore, they’d believe me.”</p>
<p class="p1">They’d kill him if Geralt did that. Dandelion swallowed, forced himself to his feet, and stumbled out of Shani's medical clinic. </p>
<p class="p1">Outside it had started to rain, but Dandelion barely registered what was happening, too numb to process. My fault, murmured a voice in the back of his head. This is all my fault.</p>
<p class="p1">
  <em>My fault. </em>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <em>Geralt nearly died because of me.</em>
</p>
<p class="p1">He shook his head and pulled at his hair, his curls long since ruined. It had seemed like such an innocent comment, when Geralt had mentioned knowing a sorceress named Yennefer. Dandelion had filed it under meaningless information and passed it on to Dijkstra the next time the spymaster had visited him. He had thought it wouldn’t matter. All he knew about Yennefer was that she owned a high end brothel, the likes of which Dandelion would never be good enough for, and that she’d suddenly taken off on some sort of expedition some time ago.</p>
<p class="p1">It seemed so meaningless.</p>
<p class="p1"><em>What does Dijkstra want from it?</em> He wondered. <em>Or is he just rubbing in Geralt’s face that I’ve been passing information to him? </em>That seemed likely, given his recent, contentious relationship with the Spymaster. He knew the Spymaster didn’t think highly of Witchers in general, seeing them as pompous and having inflated egos. Perhaps, once he’d realized Dandelion wouldn’t pass much useful information, he’d decided to get revenge on both of them.</p>
<p class="p1">He very, very rarely passed any information that involved Geralt. Dijkstra had been delighted when Geralt first became Dandelion’s client, assuming that meant the poet would pass him information readily. It had been tempting, but from the beginning Dandelion had seen something in Geralt, something that drew him toward the man. He couldn’t treat him as just any client.</p>
<p class="p1">He’d refused, Dijkstra had grown angry and stormed away. The next time the man had visited he’d forced Dandelion to suck him off, taunting him about being a Witcher’s favorite plaything, about how he was devoted to a man who wasn’t capable of loving him.</p>
<p class="p1">Was it any surprise Dandelion had bitten him?</p>
<p class="p1">Dijkstra hadn’t even seemed that upset after, grinning like a cat with a canary when he’d told Margot what Dandelion had done, knowing it would get him beaten.</p>
<p class="p1">Speaking of Margot…</p>
<p class="p1">Dandelion ran his hand through his hair. The way he saw it, he had two options: go back to Margot and take her punishment or try to find another job before she could badmouth him to all the other brothels in the city.</p>
<p class="p1">It was most likely safest to go back to Margot. For all her faults, she had taken him in when no one else would. Once he dealt with her, he could figure out what to do about Geralt, how to go about apologizing and explaining his side of the story.</p>
<p class="p1">His feet drug up the steps to the brothel slowly, heart hammering in his chest. Viola spotted him first. “Dandelion’s here!” she called over her shoulder.</p>
<p class="p1">He stood by the door in silence, waiting for Margot to come storming out of the back, her eyes flashing. “Geralt’s alive,” he said softly. “If you even care.”</p>
<p class="p1">“You!” she growled, grabbing the front of Dandelion’s shirt. “Viola, bring a lamp.”</p>
<p class="p1">Dandelion let himself be dragged down the steps into the brothel’s basement. He’d only been in the room a small handful of times. A few times for “training” where a friend of Margot’s had taught him how to take a cock up his ass, once when one of the girls had been in trouble, and once with a client whom he had trusted to respect his boundaries.</p>
<p class="p1">“Strip,” said Margot. Viola began lighting the lamps around the room.</p>
<p class="p1">He knelt down to unlace his boots slowly, putting them to the side where no one would trip.</p>
<p class="p1">“Faster boy,” ordered Margot. She was on the other side of the room, adjusting ropes and pulleys.</p>
<p class="p1">Dandelion unbuttoned his shirt in silence, hanging it over a peg at the bottom of the stairs, and then stepping out of his pants which he also hung.</p>
<p class="p1">Viola knelt in front of him and Dandelion allowed her to snap a metal ring around his balls. A set of heavy weights hung from it, pulling him uncomfortably.</p>
<p class="p1"><em>This isn’t fair,</em> thought the bard bitterly. <em>She knows I love being tied up and she intends to ruin that for me</em>. He wasn’t going to allow that, though. No matter what Margot did he wasn’t going to let her scare him for life.</p>
<p class="p1">“Careful with my wrists,” said Dandelion as Viola snapped a shackle around his hand. “If I can’t play lute I can’t make you money.”</p>
<p class="p1">The women ignored him. Ropes wrapped around his legs and waist. It wasn’t the silk Dandelion preferred, but rather a rough spun fiber like what might be used on a ship’s rigging. A similarly rough gag was pressed into his mouth.</p>
<p class="p1">He resisted the urge to complain.</p>
<p class="p1">Soon he was hoisted into the air. They had him in almost a sitting position, dangling so that his feet were barely above the ground. Then they turned him away from the door, his head tied such that he couldn’t turn to see what was behind him. After a moment he heard them leave.</p>
<p class="p1">Silence filled the room, practically deafening. <em>I don’t like this</em>, thought Dandelion.<em> I don’t like this at all</em>.</p>
<p class="p1">Margot wouldn’t just leave him. That wasn’t enough for her. She was angry at Dandelion for causing a scene, for disobeying her in front of customers. Whatever he was going to get, it would have to be worse than the public beating he’d gotten for biting Dijkstra.</p>
<p class="p1">But still, nothing happened. Dandelion remained alone with his thoughts, which honestly, it was a creative punishment. It gave him plenty of time to worry about Geralt and how he was going to apologize.</p>
<p class="p1">By the time the door opened, Dandelion was nearly asleep. He perked up at the sound of the footsteps, quick and sure, approaching him.</p>
<p class="p1">“Margot sent for me,” murmured a familiar voice in his ear. Dandelion’s blood ran cold and he struggled against his bonds, wanting to scream. “I was surprised,” the man said, stroking Dandelion’s back. “You always refuse my company, but, it seems you’re not allowed to refuse at the moment.”</p>
<p class="p1">The bard struggled, screaming behind the gag.</p>
<p class="p1">His tormentor finally stepped in front of him, his face twisted in a cruel smile. “You’re not allowed to refuse me anything, Julian,” purred Valdo Marx.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I intentionally didn't tag him as a character because I wanted it to be a surprise.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">Dandelion came to laying on the ground in the basement. He couldn’t remember everything that had happened, but his body ached enough to get a general idea.</p><p class="p1">Valdo had started with the flogger, that was his favored toy, after all, then he’d pulled on the weights that hung from Dandelion’s balls, laughing as the bard had struggled.</p><p class="p1">Valdo had untied him, after that, and removed the gag. He could remember something being poured down his throat, but after that everything seemed to be a blur. He remembered crying and begging, his cock harder than it had ever been in his life. <em>An aphrodisiac</em>, he decided.</p><p class="p1">He had a vague memory of hot wax being poured over his body, which was proven by the dried wax currently stuck to his stomach. Dandelion idly peeled it off as he laid on the cold stone floor, letting it soothe the burning in his ass.</p><p class="p1">It seemed Valdo hadn’t put much care into stretching him properly.</p><p class="p1">Shifting a bit, Dandelion frowned. When he reached under himself, he was annoyed to realize there was a plug shoved into his ass. Judging by how his intestines felt, it was larger than it had any right to be.</p><p class="p1">He was too tired to get it out, giving up after fumbling for only a few moments. Someone would be along to collect him eventually, and he’d get their help.</p><p class="p1">But as he laid on the floor, help never came.</p><p class="p1">After a while, Dandelion came to the conclusion that no one was coming. He pushed himself to his feet weakly and stumbled for the stairs. His clothes were gone, no longer hanging on the peg by the door where he’d left them, so he was forced to continue on naked.</p><p class="p1">Halfway up the stairs Dandelion groaned. Apparently the aphrodisiac hadn’t worn off since the sensation of the plug in his ass had been enough to have his cock start hardening.</p><p class="p1">He’d handle that after he got rid of the plug.</p><p class="p1">At the top of the stairs, Dandelion shoved open the door and stumbled out, only to be hit by a wall of sound, light, and smells.</p><p class="p1">He’d walked into a party. Dandelion froze, his eyes widening at all the people crowded into the brothel’s parlor, laughing and drinking with whores perched on their laps. For a moment, he considered running back into the basement to hide, then he was spotted.</p><p class="p1">“Julian!” laughed Valdo. “You’ve finally come to join us!”</p><p class="p1">He turned sharply, loosing his balance and stumbling, but Valdo caught him, pulling him up and leading him forward. Dandelion pulled against him, wishing he could run, but he was too weak to do anything but stumble alongside the man.</p><p class="p1">People turned to look at them, laughing at the sight of Dandelion, still naked, a plug poking out of his ass, his hair a sticky mess, and cock at attention. His face burned with humiliation.</p><p class="p1">Valdo sat in a chair and pulled Dandelion into his lap, stroking his face. “Shhh,” he murmured. “It’s all right, Julian.”</p><p class="p1">The bard schooled his face, refusing to react or say a word.</p><p class="p1">“Shall I take care of this?” Valdo’s hand rested on Dandelion’s cock, his face perfectly schooled into a gentle expression.</p><p class="p1">Dandelion couldn’t help the moan that slipped from his lips.</p><p class="p1">“Oh baby,” soothed Valdo. “Shhh, I’ve got you.” He sobbed as Valdo stroked him slowly, rubbing down his cock.</p><p class="p1">“S- stop,” Dandeion whispered.</p><p class="p1">“You don’t know what you’re saying,” purred the man, lifting Dandelion’s chin with one finger.</p><p class="p1">“Yes, I do,” whispered Dandelion. “I told you to stop.”</p><p class="p1">“Oh, Julian,” Valdo kept stroking him. “Margot says you’re not allowed to say that anymore.”</p><p class="p1">Dandelion whined as cool fingers played with his balls. He pressed his hands flat against Valdo’s chest and pushed, managing to roll off the man’s lap and slump to the floor with a groan.</p><p class="p1">But he couldn’t find it in himself to get up and walk away, too weak from whatever he’d been through.</p><p class="p1">“Julian,” scolded Valdo softly, reaching out to help him up, Dandelion swatted his hand away.</p><p class="p1">“My name isn’t Julian,” he said from the floor, staring up at Valdo. “My name is Dandelion.”</p><p class="p1">Valdo laughed. “He’s lying,” he told the room, waving his hand at Dandelion. “He always lies. Shall I tell them or would you prefer to?”</p><p class="p1">Anything Valdo said would be a mess, so Dandelion forced himself to speak first. “My father named me Julian Alfred Pankratz,” he said, as loudly as he could. “I was his first born, a bastard son from a half-elven mother.”</p><p class="p1">“She was a servant,” said Valdo calmly. “I’ve heard he raped her every night during her pregnancy. Perhaps that’s why you’re such a slut.”</p><p class="p1">Dandelion tried to push himself up, but Valdo pressed his foot into his chest, forcing him back. He tapped his toe against Dandelion’s scar. “You weren’t branded at birth though, were you?”</p><p class="p1">“My father raised me as a human-”</p><p class="p1">“He sent him to Oxenfurt,” said Valdo, speaking above Dandelion easily. “What changed, Julian? Why did your father call the non-human registers?”</p><p class="p1">Dandelion’s face burned. “He caught me in bed with a man,” he said. “He’s a good, traditional Redanian and homosexuality is frowned upon.”</p><p class="p1">Valdo laughed. “No one minds if men fuck other men, Julian. The problem was that you had a cock up your ass. Only weak men allow that.”</p><p class="p1">Dandelion’s head spun. He wanted nothing more than to curl up and sleep for several hours. More than anything he wanted Geralt, wanted the Witcher to rub his back and soothe his aches.</p><p class="p1">“It’s truly amazing what you can put up your ass.” Valdo was suddenly over him, pulling him up, turning him over, grabbing the plug-</p><p class="p1">Dandelion screamed as it was pulled out of him.</p><p class="p1">If there was anyone who hadn’t noticed Dandelion, they certainly noticed after that.</p><p class="p1">Valdo held up the plug triumphantly. “It’s the largest one Margot owns,” he explained to the delighted onlookers who no doubt thought it was some planned show. Perhaps it was, only Dandelion hadn’t been in on the planning.</p><p class="p1">He held the plug in front of Dandelion’s face, waving it about. The bard’s stomach churched uncomfortably. He’d never seen such a large plug, no wonder he felt as though he was on fire.</p><p class="p1">“His father turned him in to the register after that,” said Valdo, tossing the plug aside carelessly. “He was taken to the courthouse, whipped, and branded.”</p><p class="p1">Dandelion could vividly remember it, could still smell the charred flesh as the brand had been pushed into his skin.</p><p class="p1">“Then he ran away and came here, to start a new life as the whore he was always meant to be.”</p><p class="p1">He grit his teeth, managing to push himself up to face Valdo. “You’re only mad because a half-elf beat you for the spot of Valedictorian.”</p><p class="p1">The last thing he remembered was Valdo’s fist meeting his head.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">He hadn’t seen the bard in some time. Geralt had convinced himself it was for the best. Dandelion had betrayed him, sold him out for a few coins. As much as Geralt had wanted to think that they were friends, it seemed he’d only ever been one of Dandelion’s clients.</p>
<p class="p1">Clearly he didn’t need Geralt.</p>
<p class="p1">Or, at least, he didn’t need him at the moment. The Witcher knew himself well enough to know he’d track Dandelion down and get more answers out of him eventually. But he wasn’t ready for it yet. They both needed time to cool off. </p>
<p class="p1">Then he would find the young man and let him give his excuses, whatever they may be. Perhaps they would even be good excuses, Dandelion was a skilled actor, after all, and he’d have plenty of time to think up a good story. Perhaps Geralt would even allow himself to be convinced, just so he could see his friend again.</p>
<p class="p1">The Witcher sighed.</p>
<p class="p1">Snow swirled around him as he walked. The need for Witcher escorts died down in the winter, when fewer people and goods were traveling, so Geralt was able to take time to enjoy himself, wandering through the city with his hood up so that no one would recognize him.</p>
<p class="p1">When he stepped into the main square, his stomach lurched. A line of stocks was set up in front of the courthouse and he was painfully reminded what day it was. Tax Day. His stomach twisted uncomfortably, suddenly reminded of the day he’d seen Dandelion in the stocks.</p>
<p class="p1">It was early in the morning of the sixteenth, the whippings had ended hours ago, on the evening of the fifteenth. It seemed he was looking at those who hadn’t even been able to afford to pay even a fraction of the tax, who had been subjected to staying in the stocks all night.</p>
<p class="p1">He shook his head. <em>Poor buggers</em>, thought the Witcher, his eyes flicking down the line. There were only a few of them, since most made a point to pay the entire tax, particularly during the winter.</p>
<p class="p1">Then his heart skipped a beat.</p>
<p class="p1"><em>Dandelion</em>.</p>
<p class="p1">The soldier tasked with freeing the non-humans released Dandelion from the stocks he was locked into, and - when the man didn’t move, threw him aside. Dandelion caught himself, pushing himself onto his hands and knees and grabbing a bag and lute case which had been at his feet, then he stumbled off the platform only to fall into the snow once again.</p>
<p class="p1">By the time Geralt reached him, he was unconscious, laying limply in the snow dressed in nothing but a pair of pants.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This chapter is short because originally I was going to have <i>Revealed</i> end with the last chapter, then pick up a new story with this as a 'prologue' of sorts, but then I decided to just keep them as one fic.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">He couldn’t leave him there.</p>
<p class="p1">He couldn’t leave anyone there.</p>
<p class="p1">He definitely couldn’t leave Dandelion there.</p>
<p class="p1">All the others had shuffled away, most helped by a friend loved ones who had come to save them, but Dandelion had been left alone. Geralt had waited, convinced someone from the brothel would come to fetch him, but no one had.</p>
<p class="p1">Finally he had picked him up and carried him back to his apartment. There he’d been told that Dandelion no longer lived in the small apartment, that he’d been evicted for lack of payment and moved in with a friend. But no one knew who the friend was or where Geralt might find him. So Geralt had felt that he had no choice but to take him home. He could have taken him back to the brothel, but a nagging suspicion told him not to.</p>
<p class="p1">He laid Dandelion on the floor by the fire, wrapping him in blankets and furs once the flames were going.</p>
<p class="p1">Dandelion only whimpered. “Val- valdo,” he sobbed. “Please.”</p>
<p class="p1">“It’s me, Dandelion,” Geralt said quietly. “It’s Geralt.”</p>
<p class="p1">Blue eyes flickered open and Dandelion stared at him dumbly. “Geralt,” he whispered. He reached for him weakly, twisting his hand into Geralt’s shirt. Geralt gently detached his grip, tangling their fingers together so he could hold his hand instead, rubbing his thumb gently over the back of Dandelion’s hand.</p>
<p class="p1">“What happened?” Geralt asked, stroking Dandelion’s hair with his free hand.</p>
<p class="p1">“Valdo,” whispered Dandelion again.</p>
<p class="p1">“I don’t know him,” Geralt said. “Do you want me to take you to him?”</p>
<p class="p1">His reaction was immediate. “NO! Please! Please!”</p>
<p class="p1">“Alright, alright,” Geralt promised. “I’m here, you’re safe.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Hurts,” sobbed Dandelion. “I’m so s-sorry.”</p>
<p class="p1">Geralt gathered him into his arms, holding him tight against his chest. “Don’t apologize,” he said softly. “Not now.”</p>
<p class="p1">“W-warm,” moaned the bard. “Hold me.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Why don’t I run a bath?” Geralt asked. He needed to get him warmed up, make certain frost bite hadn’t set in. If it had- well, he’d worry about that when the time came.</p>
<p class="p1">Dandelion shook his head. “Geralt,” he mumbled. “Don’t go.”</p>
<p class="p1">Geralt stood, still holding Dandelion in his arms. “I’ll stay with you,” he promised.</p>
<p class="p1">He carried the wounded man up the steps, to top floor, the private area Dandelion had never been in. Once there he laid him in a tub, starting the water running, as he attempted to strip him out of his clothes, frozen stiff from snowmelt.</p>
<p class="p1">Dandelion seemed to stir again, reaching out to stop Geralt from undressing him. “N-noo…”</p>
<p class="p1">“You love baths,” Geralt reminded him, pausing to stroke his hair. “You’ll feel better once you’re warm.” That was true enough, Dandelion would feel better once he was warmed up. It just conveniently left out the bit about how painful the process of warming him would potentially be.</p>
<p class="p1">The bard only moaned and leaned back, letting his hands fall to his sides as Geralt finished undressing him. He wasn’t prepared for what he found.</p>
<p class="p1">Bruises on Dandelion’s back were to be expected - he’d been <em>caned</em> - but that couldn’t explain the marks on his stomach, old and beginning to fade, nor the ones between his legs. He didn’t understand it, Dandelion didn’t allow customers to leave such permanent marks, and when they did he knew how to make them disappear with the right salve or potion.</p>
<p class="p1">But there wasn’t time to worry about healing wounds. Dandelion groaned as the warm water finally reached him and tried to pull out of the tub. Geralt pushed him back down, resting his hands on too thin shoulders. “I know it hurts,” he said quietly. “But you need to warm up.”</p>
<p class="p1">Confused blue eyes met amber. Geralt stroked his hair slowly.</p>
<p class="p1">“I’m sorry,” said the bard. “Dijkstra-“</p>
<p class="p1">“Not now, Dandelion.” Geralt cupped the back of his head and gave him a soft kiss. “Not now.”</p>
<p class="p1">He held the troubadour’s hands, rubbing feeling back into his fingers as the warm water filled the tub. Dandelion remained silent, not speaking, only occasionally moaning in discomfort. “We can talk later,” he explained. “For now I only want you to feel better, do you understand?”</p>
<p class="p1">Dandelion nodded weakly. “M-Margot-” he moaned. “Don- don’t take me back.”</p>
<p class="p1">“You don’t want to go back to the brothel?” Geralt repeated.</p>
<p class="p1">The bard shook his head. “Haven’t- haven’t got anywhere.” His head lolled to one side, eyes meeting Geralt’s. Then he pulled his hand free of Geralt’s grip and reached for the Witcher’s crotch. “Let me <em>stay</em>-”</p>
<p class="p1">Every instinct in Geralt’s head was telling him to scream NO as loud as he could, but he kept his mouth shut, dragging the bard’s hand away from his crotch and guiding it back into the warm water. “You can stay,” he promised, cupping his chin. “And all I want in return is a smile.”</p>
<p class="p1">The bard seemed to chuckle, his cheeks lifting slightly. “Should have known,” he moaned.</p>
<p class="p1">“You should have,” Geralt agreed quietly. “You’re safe here,” he promised gently.</p>
<p class="p1">Dandelion nodded slowly, seeming to drift back off. Geralt sat beside the tub, continuing to rub his fingers and toes until he was convinced that the bard was safe from frost bite.</p>
<p class="p1">Once the water began to cool Geralt helped him from the tub, wrapping him in a thick robe and carrying him to one of the guest rooms. Dandelion barely stirred as Geralt tucked him into bed, pulling blankets over him before stepping away to light a fire. Leaving the man to rest, Geralt fetched his bag and lute from downstairs, then brought it up to sit on a chair beside him.</p>
<p class="p1">He looked down at the sleeping bard. He had forgotten just how poor the man was, barely making a living despite working nearly every night in a brothel. It seemed he hadn’t had any savings to fall back on. No wonder he’d worked for Dijkstra.</p>
<p class="p1">“How desperate were you for a bit of coin?” Geralt asked quietly, stroking hair out of Dandelion’s face. “Why didn’t you just ask me?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">Dandelion woke up with a pounding in his head. Headaches had been something he’d grown used to ever since Valdo had knocked him out in Margot’s parlor.</p><p class="p1">Pushing himself up, Dandelion surveyed the unfamiliar room. He had no idea where he was. It wasn’t Valdo’s rented room, which was where he’d ended up after being knocked out in Margot’s parlor. The other troubadour had claimed it was ‘rescue,’ saying that Dandelion deserved better than to be a cheap whore (it had taken Dandelion three days to escape his “rescuer”).</p><p class="p1">Once he’d gotten away from Valdo he’d learned that the man had taken all of his things from his apartment, apparently believing that Dandelion was going to stay with him.</p><p class="p1">Dandelion had opted to live on the street instead.</p><p class="p1">“H-hello?” he called weakly.</p><p class="p1">Footsteps echoed down the hall and a familiar woman stepped into view. “You’re awake!”</p><p class="p1">Unable to believe what he saw, Dandelion rubbed his eyes. “Shani?” He was certain he wasn’t in Shani’s house or her clinic either, so he had no idea what she was doing there, taking care of him.</p><p class="p1">She sat on the edge of his bed with a smile. “It’s me,” she told him. “Geralt sent for me since he had to leave. He’s escorting a caravan to the next trading post, but he said it wouldn’t be more than a day or two, so he should be back soon.”</p><p class="p1">“Geralt?”</p><p class="p1">“You’re in his home,” she explained. “He found you after Tax Day.”</p><p class="p1">Dandelion didn’t know what to say to that. He couldn’t fathom why Geralt had saved him, although, now that she mentioned it, he had a vague memory of Geralt looming over him in the snow.</p><p class="p1">Everything else was a blur. He moaned and rubbed his head.</p><p class="p1">“Whats the matter?” Shani asked gently. “Are you hurt?”</p><p class="p1">“Head. Hit my… head.”</p><p class="p1">“When?”</p><p class="p1">He struggled to remember. “Few days? Weeks? The night I took Geralt to you.”</p><p class="p1">She nodded in understanding, then sat beside him, gently rubbing her fingers into his hair. He drifted in and out of consciousness as she checked him over, barely cognizant enough to follow her directions to blink or track her finger with his eyes.</p><p class="p1">“Where’s Geralt?”</p><p class="p1">“He had to leave on a contract,” Shani explained.</p><p class="p1">“Why am I here?”</p><p class="p1">“Geralt brought you here.”</p><p class="p1">Dandelion blinked at her, then bluntly said, “Geralt hates me.”</p><p class="p1">“Hates you?” Shani repeated. “No, Dandelion, I don’t think he hates you.”</p><p class="p1">He just moaned and closed his eyes. She patted his shoulder. “Sleep, Dandelion, you’ll feel better.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">He was asleep when Geralt returned, although Shani told him that the bard had been awake earlier.</p>
<p class="p1">“He had a head injury,” she had said. “It’s not new, but that explains his memory gaps.”</p>
<p class="p1">The memory gaps were news to Geralt. “He didn’t have memory problems before.”</p>
<p class="p1">She had only shrugged. “He won’t tell me where it came from, just keeps mumbling about someone named Valdo.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Mentioned him to me as well.”</p>
<p class="p1">Shani had left after that, and Geralt had sat beside Dandelion in a silent vigil, waiting for the man to wake.</p>
<p class="p1">He started to stir near sunrise, moaning quietly and shifting in the bed. Geralt reached out and rested his hand on Dandelion’s shoulder. “Easy,” he soothed.</p>
<p class="p1">Blue eyes flicked open. “Geralt?”</p>
<p class="p1">“Hello Dandelion.”</p>
<p class="p1">The bard let out a sob. “I thought I’d imagined you,” he whispered.</p>
<p class="p1">“I’m very real,” he promised, rubbing his shoulder. “And I’m very happy to see you awake.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Let me explain-”</p>
<p class="p1">Geralt shook his head. “Not now,” he soothed. “Now you just need to feel better.”</p>
<p class="p1">He helped the bard to eat a bit, then carried him to the chamberpot and then back to bed. Dandelion seemed to barely be clinging to consciousness at that point, so Geralt tucked him in told him to rest.</p>
<p class="p1">“I won’t ever be far, Dandelion. If you wake up and I’m not hear, just try to make any sort of noise and I’ll hear you.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Thank you.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Of course, my friend.” </p>
<p class="p1">Eskel stopped by later that morning. Dandelion was still asleep, so they sat on the floor in the hallway outside his room. Far enough to not disturb him, but close enough that that they could him if he woke.</p>
<p class="p1">“I heard your friend was injured,” Eskel explained, leaning against the wall. “Wanted to stop by, see if you needed anything.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Thank you, but I’m fine.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Will he be alright? He was nice when I met him.”</p>
<p class="p1">“When you met him?” Geralt repeated. “When did you meet him?”</p>
<p class="p1">Eskel’s ears turned red. “It was Lambert’s idea,” he grumbled. “Wanted to see what the fuss was about.”</p>
<p class="p1">Geralt snorted. “And did you? See what the fuss was all about I mean?”</p>
<p class="p1">“He’s a decent fuck,” admitted Eskel bluntly. “But I suspect it’s his personality that has you so charmed.”</p>
<p class="p1">Geralt didn’t answer, which only prompted a laugh from Eskel.</p>
<p class="p1">They talked for a while longer, then Eskel announced that he was expected somewhere that evening and needed to leave. Geralt walked him to the door, then returned to his quiet vigil at Dandelion’s side.</p>
<p class="p1">It was past noon when Dandelion began to wake again, moaning and fumbling for Geralt blindly. He took his hand and squeezed gently. “I’m here, Dandelion.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Thank you.” He seemed more aware than he had that morning, managing to sit up with a slight wince. “Where am I?”</p>
<p class="p1">“The guest room,” Geralt explained. “In my home.”</p>
<p class="p1">“It’s too bright.”</p>
<p class="p1">Geralt moved quickly, shutting the curtains to block out the midday sun. He could still see just fine in the dark, and Dandelion seemed much better once the light was no longer streaming in.</p>
<p class="p1">He helped him to eat a bit more, then to sip an herbal concoction Shani had left for him. Dandelion was stronger than before, and most likely could have managed himself, but Geralt was happiest helping him and he seemed to enjoy the attention.</p>
<p class="p1">Once he was fed and medicated he let Geralt fluff the pillows behind his head so that he could sit upright against the headboard without much effort.“You have my lute,” he said, staring at the bags beside the bed.</p>
<p class="p1">“That’s all you had with you,” explained Geralt. “I don’t know where the rest of your things are.”</p>
<p class="p1">Dandelion’s face contorted, his nose winking. “Valdo has them, I believe.”</p>
<p class="p1">Geralt tilted his head, unused to such an expression on the poet’s face. “Who’s Valdo?”</p>
<p class="p1">“Valdo Marx,” said Dandelion. “I attended Oxenfurt with him. He’s currently visiting from Cidharis.”</p>
<p class="p1">“You don’t like him,” Geralt guessed.</p>
<p class="p1">“If Valdo died tomorrow I would stab him to make sure he was dead and then I’d piss in his grave.”</p>
<p class="p1">Geralt nodded slowly, pushing hair off Dandelion’s forehead. “Tell me what happened to your head,” he asked softly. “Please.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Valdo hit me,” Dandelion replied. “I- I’m told that I hit my head on a table when I fell, but I don’t remember.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Why did he hit you?”</p>
<p class="p1">“I insulted him.”</p>
<p class="p1">Geralt snorted. He could believe that. Dandelion insulted people like it was his favorite hobby (besides singing, it probably was). “Did he deserve it?”</p>
<p class="p1">Dandelion smiled, a cruel, dangerous smile. “Yes.”</p>
<p class="p1">He nodded slowly. “Do you want me to collect your things?” Perhaps he could get Lambert to get them, if Valdo were truly as awful as Dandelion’s expression made him out to be, then a meeting with Lambert was just what he deserved. Or perhaps he would go himself.</p>
<p class="p1">Or, perhaps they could go together. That could be fun.</p>
<p class="p1">Dandelion nodded slowly. “If you don’t mind.”</p>
<p class="p1">“There’s no reason not to bring them here.”</p>
<p class="p1">“No reason?” Dandelion repeated. “Not even-”</p>
<p class="p1">“I told you not to worry about Dijkstra, I’m not happy but- but I’m not as angry as I was. I’ll listen to you, but not now. Wait until you’re feeling better.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Don't forget that my <a href="https://sunflowersupremes.tumblr.com/ask">ask box on tumblr</a> is always open if you'd like to send prompts, fanmail, or accusations of character abuse.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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